


Jumper

by theackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Boys Kissing, Dean-Centric, F/M, Flashbacks, Gay Panic, Gay Sex, Human Castiel, M/M, Old Friends, POV Dean Winchester, Punk Castiel, Rich Dean, Snarky Castiel, Suicide Attempt, Top Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theackles/pseuds/theackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak has always been a bad influence on Dean, but Dean has always kept him from really diving off the deep end. It's only when Castiel really gets into something bad that Mary separates Dean from Castiel's life. And then, it's Dean who finds Castiel 12 years later about to make another stupid mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flashback

**Author's Note:**

> ummmm what? lol i thought of this in the shower.....dont judge me

“I don’t know about this, Cas…”

“Just shut up and hand me the wires,”

Dean Winchester sighs and reaches across the the back of Cas’ Ford where all the supplies were. His fingers grab the blue wires, and he hesitantly hands them to Cas. Cas takes them with steady fingers without looking down from the tiny box, red and yellow wires sticking out from every opening. Dean grabs the flashlight again and holds it up, slightly shaking above the bomb.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Cas.” Dean mumbles quietly, standing up on his knees that straddle either side of Cas’ hips from behind him. Dean peers over his shoulder and watches skilled hands connect wires and light matches to melt them together until the different colors are crossed over each other and disappearing back inside of the box.

“Shouldn’t be doing a lot of things, but those fuckers barked up the wrong tree.” Cas mutters angrily, lighting another match to melt another piece of the plastic box together. “Hand me the wire cutters.”

Dean sighs softly and leans back again to rummage in the toolbox. He grabs the worn cutters and leans back over to hand them to Cas. He takes them, and continues working.

Dean doesn’t watch, just holds the flashlight and watches the graveyard with cautious eyes. It’s deserted, only a few birds in the trees or small animals in the bushes. Cas’ truck is parked in the empty, grassy area just beside a large lake. On the other side of the lake, only about a third of a football field in width but two football fields in length, is a small neighborhood. That’s where Raphael lives, on the house just by the sandy edges.

Dean’s not sure what Raphael did to Cas, but Cas is angry. When Cas is angry, Dean knows it’s just best to stay away and talk him out of his revenge from a distance. But Cas is so set on this, on this crime that could go so wrong that Dean can’t talk him down from it.

“What did he do, anyway?” Dean asks quietly, flicking his eyes down to Cas’ fingers still snipping pieces of wire and putting in things Dean didn’t know the name of.

“Doesn’t matter,” Cas mutters.

Dean scoffs, “If it doesn’t matter, then why the fuck are you making a bomb?” He spits accusingly. Cas may be his best friend, but this could kill people, not just land them in the hospital with a scare.

Cas growls, “Look, it’s none of your business. Just shut the fuck up and keep the flashlight over it.” He snaps, glancing over his shoulder to glare. His blue eyes catch the bright flashlight and it looks like they’re glowing. Dean huffs and sits, thighs against legs, with his chin resting on Cas’ shoulder. He’s tired, so he doesn’t bother watching for anyone anymore.

After a few more minutes, Cas puts all of his tools away. “There.” He says quietly, and grabs a small can of gasoline. Cas slides off the back of the truck  and fills a small hole in the bomb. He keeps a tool in his pocket as he turns away, and starts up the sandy trail towards the lake.

On the other side of the lake is an old construction site for all the houses that were never built behind the one Raphael lives in. Dean frowns, checking his watch and seeing it tick just pas 2:04 AM. Cas told him to sit in the truck while he started it, but he couldn’t just sit there. He jumps up and runs over before Cas can go any further, huffing out breath when he finally catches up.

Cas is just slightly taller than him, older than him by a year and a half, holding the bomb and glaring down at Dean. “I thought I told you to stay in the truck.”

“I’m not going to sit there and be useless while you put people’s lives at risk,” Dean snaps, glaring back up. Cas just rolls his eyes and turns around the edge of the lake towards the construction.

“There’s nothing for you to do. All you’re going to do now is slow me down.”

“You’re being a jackass,” Dean mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest to fight against the wind that gives him goosebumps and whistles in his ears.

“If you don’t like it, go home.” Cas says, and jogs forward to grab onto the ladder of the site. Dean paces as Cas climbs with one hand, bomb held tightly in the other, with that tool and the last piece of wire hanging out of his back pocket of his jeans.

As Cas reaches the top, Dean’s heart rate climbs, wide green eyes watching for anyone or any cars. The graveyard is eerie with the bare trees of winter, and the moon is bright.  Cas disappears over the top for a second and walks out towards the edge. Dean can’t see him from the bottom of the ladder, but he can hear Cas curse after a few moments.

“What?” Dean shouts as quietly as he can.

“It’s not ticking,” he hears him, just barely. Dean’s heart jumps.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? It’s not ticking, jackass!” Cas snaps, irritation coming off his voice in waves. A few more agonizing seconds pass, before Cas curses again. Cas appears over the edge, next. “We have a minute. Go back to the truck, I’ll be there in a second.”

Dean curses and nods, barely trusting Cas to get back in time, but trusting him. This was Cas’ plan, and if he wants to get caught in the crossfire, then more power to him.  Dean starts jogging back, closing the back of the truck and turning to look for Cas.  

It’s dark from this far away, and he can’t spot Cas in the darkness. Panic surges through him and he sucks in a breath. “Cas?” He calls out, eyes squinting and looking through the darkness. “Cas!”

He glances at his watch. 15 seconds.

“Cas!” He hisses loudly, panicking, fear coursing through him as he starts walking back, slow at first and then quicker and quicker until he’s running. His watch hits 2 seconds, and then he stumbles to a stop, watching as Cas jumps from the ladder, mouth opening to say something, but then the lake lights up in yellows and reds and blues.

And then black.

And then, white.

Dean’s eyes snap open and he gasps, throat constricting and dry. He coughs, hard, rips stinging and hurting and aching. His head pounds and he can’t see past the blurring figures above him, glowing white. He shuts his eyes with a groan, before he feels a gentle hand over his head, pushing his hair back.

“Dean?” A familiar voice calls, soothing and female, but he can’t place it past the ringing in his ears. The hand rakes through his hair again, “Dean, baby?” He blinks furiously, desperate to see who’s calling his name. His whole body aches and as he blinks, he fights to think back why his body is in so much pain.

He remembers the flashes of red and yellow, and the loud bang. Cas – he remembers Cas, and he finally blinks through the fog.

Mary Winchester stands above him, worry etched in every crevice of her young face. “Oh my God, Dean,” she cradles his head, tears clouding her eyes and her voice. “Oh, the doctors said they weren’t sure if you’d wake up.”

“Cas,” he groans, throat still dry. He coughs around the name. “Water,” he tries instead, and Mary registers that one. A small paper cup is pressed to his lips, and he’s drowning in it, dripping down his chin and getting lost down his chest and the hospital gown.

“Sips, honey, sips.” She warns quietly, petting the back of his hair as she lowers the cup. Dean sips it and sighs softly when his throat finally feels relief.

“Where–” he coughs again, “Where’s Cas?”

Mary’s face hardens and she sits back in her chair. “He’s at a different hospital.”

Dean sits up worriedly. “Is he okay? Why isn’t he here?”

Mary sighs and leans over to grab Dean’s hand, smoothing her thumbs over his skin. “Honey,” she starts, but it does nothing to soothe the panic and fear creating cement rocks in his gut. “Castiel is in the ICU at Wellington,”

Dean’s throat goes dry and he freezes. “Cas is in a psychiatric hospital?”

Mary sighs again and shakes her head, taking Dean’s hand in hers and holding it tightly. “He’s unwell, sweetie.”

“I – I can go see him, right? When I get out?” He asks worriedly, wondering if his mom actually knew why they were in the hospital to begin with.

Mary’s eyes go dark and she shakes her head, again. “No, Dean. I don’t want you around him anymore. Castiel is going to be in the ward for a very long time, until he gets better. I want you to be out of here and in college before that happens.”

“Mom–” Dean shakes his head, tears burning the back of his eyes. “He’s my best friend.”

Mary nods. “I know, baby, but he needs help.”

“He needs me.”

“He needs medication and doctors and therapy sessions. He tried to bomb Raphael Hamilton’s house, Dean. Raphael and his mother is in critical condition. If their baby’s nursery had been on the wrong end of the house, she would be dead. Dean, Castiel is wrong in the head. He needs help. He’s very lucky Raphael’s father isn’t pressing charges for life in prison.”

Dean collapses against the pillows, gasping as his tears fall down his face. “Mom I can’t just leave him.”

“It’s for the best, baby.” She whispers, kissing his temple. “He was a bad influence on you. You can finally get back into your school work and work on getting into Yale, remember? Engineering?”

Dean nods, but he can’t really hear the words.

“Okay,” Mary whispers. “Good. It’ll all be okay, Dean.”


	2. Jumper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like the positive reviews so far!! thank you all who are taking the time to comment and kudos! :D  
> i dont usually post anything on fridays but since i already had this written all i had to do was post it. :)))))

12 Years Later.

“I’m going to work, baby,”

“Mmmmm,” Dean groans, burying his face in his pillow. A hand smoothes through his hair and a soft laugh hits against his temple.

“Ben has a dance after school today, so I’m going to work over and come home after I get him. Okay?”

“Mkay,” Dean mumbles, sleepily leaning up to peck Lisa’s lips. “Have fun at work.” He grins sleepily, “Don’t get the crazy on you.”

Lisa slaps his ass through the sheets. “Dean Winchester,” she laughs, “You’re so mean.” Dean hums again and rolls back into the comfort of his pillows.

“Love you,” he calls as the bedroom door opens.

“Love you too. Call me before you go into work.” Dean says something that sounds like “yeah, will do,” but it gets lost as he falls back to sleep.

He wakes up much more naturally a few hours later, when the clock is at 11 AM. The sunlight makes the room almost unbearably bright, with pale blue walls that reflect the sunlight right onto the black and white sheets. Dean throws his feet over the edge and winces at the cold wood floors. He stands and stretches, relishing in the feel and sound of the popping bones of his back.

He wanders around the large room until he gets to the dresser where he grabs a pair of jeans, boxers, and a shirt. His shower is marvelous, with hot water pounding into his back and getting out all the knots that Lisa can’t get with her almost-masseuse fingers. Dean was really disappointed to know that she couldn’t afford massage classes anymore. If he was around her back in her college days, damn straight he’d pay it off for her.

He sighs when he steps out and gets dressed. He only puts his shoes on downstairs before he collapses on the couch and turns the TV onto the news channel for reruns he missed this morning. He grabs his computer and starts it up, looking through emails of different dealerships wanting to co-sign with his brand. The 2015 Angeles Hound is in very high demand, but he refuses to let just any dealership sell Hound cars. They’re special, each one designed under his fingertips until they’re perfect.

He stops scrolling through the emails when the news suddenly gets loud, BREAKING NEWS: LIVE running across the screen in flashing red letters. He peers over the screen as it continues, an unsteady camera zooming up onto the bridge near viewable from his own house to see a figure standing on the railing with obviously skilled balance. From so far away, you can’t tell who it is.

“The man was apparently taking a walk, said passing bystanders until he turned towards the middle of the bridge and started climbing.”

Dean’s eyebrows pull in as he watches, trying to see if it’s anyone he may know of, or maybe Lisa would know. Being a nurse in a psych ward leads you to knowing many strange, ticking people.

A camera closer, standing near the crowd, zooms in just as someone steps forward. Their lips move and they reach a hand out. The guy turns his head, glaring, and Dean freezes.

“No fucking way.” He seethes, slamming his computer shut and tossing it on the couch. He grabs his keys from the coffee table as he watches, the news lady coming back on from further on the bridge.

“Professionals have been trying to talk the man down, but no avail.”

Dean turns off the TV and throws open the front door, barely remembering to shut and lock it behind him. He unlocks and slides into his dad’s ‘67 Chevy Impala and peels out of the driveway, immediately hitting 60 on the 30 road, going straight for the bridge where the traffic is curled around the road on the wrong side. He curses and jumps out, locking the doors and starting a job, which turns into a run when the man leans forward a bit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls, running as fast as his legs can carry him. The year running for track had never paid off so well. He only stops when the policemen hold their hands out and stop him.

“Sir, you can’t go past.” One says, eyes hard and warning, testing him. Dean’s eyes snap to the man, so close, but so far away.

“That’s my best friend,” he tells him, “Please. I can get him down. Please.” He begs, even though he hates doing it.

One police officer shakes his head, “I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go past.”

Dean growls and shoves against them, anger spiking through him. Two more police officers come out of nowhere and hold him back, and people are suddenly look at him. “CASTIEL!” He screams, over the people’s chatter and whistle of the wind. He watches his hands tighten over the pole. “CAS!” He shouts, giving the wall of policemen a final shove before they let him go. Dean shoves past them and runs over, close enough to see him clearly. “Cas! Don’t.”

Cas looks back, a frown pulling on his face. The wind whips his shaggy hair into his eyes. His eyebrows pull in with confusion.

“Cas,” Dean pleads, defeated, taking a few steps forward, closer than any paramedic has gotten so far. “Come down from there. What are you doing?”

He gets near enough to touch him if he reaches his arm out, but he doesn’t. Cas looks the same as he stares down at him. His blue eyes are still bright and hard, he’s just a little older. His lanky teenage figure has evened out, and his brown hair has darkened to black. Dean finally reaches a hand out and arches his eyebrows, expectantly.

“Dean?” Cas finally asks, turning around just enough to grab his hand. He jumps down, but keeps his distance, retracting his hand.

“Hey,” Dean laughs quietly. “Long time no see.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Cas gapes, eyes widening.

“I live around here. What are you doing here?” Dean eyes him, taking him in again. Dean is taller than him now, only by about two inches. Cas still sports dark jeans and combat boots, a black leather jacket and a navy blue novelty tee. Still thin, though. Cas was always thin.

“Was about to jump to my death, but I guess there’s been a change in plans.” Cas chuckles bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest accusingly.

“Look,” Dean snaps, glaring at him. “That’s not shit to joke about Cas. You could’ve died.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Cas glares evilly, just like he did way back then. “I’m not a fucking idiot,” he grumbles, glancing around Dean to look at all the paramedics. “Now everyones going to think I’m crazy.”

“No, they’re not,” Dean sighs, reaching over to grab Cas’ shoulder with a tight grip and pulling him towards the crowd. “Just let them do their job,” he tells Cas as the paramedics rush over and check him over.

One of the police officers that held Cas back pull Dean away, but Dean never looks away from Cas. “Good job, kid,” he slaps his shoulder, “But we’re gonna have to take him in, you know that.”

Dean shakes his head. “No. Look, he’s been through a lot. Just let me take him home, get him settled. It won’t happen again.”

The officer frowns. “No, because when it happens, it’ll be in your bathroom floor instead.”

Dean winces. “He’s okay.” He insists. “He will be. He just needs me right now.”

The police officer glares, then, “Alright, fine, but we’re going to be taking surprise visits at random to check on him.” He pulls out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. “Write your address down, sir.”

Dean complies, and tries to give the officer a smile as he walks away. Dean wanders back over to the paramedics who nod at Dean, saying Cas is okay other than a small bit of wind burn.

“You’re my hero.” Cas says sarcastically as Dean pulls him away from the crowd.

“Shut the fuck up, Cas,” Dean snaps, glaring. “You’re coming with me. I can’t believe you just…” he shakes his head, and glares at Cas as they start off the bridge. Dean stops and folds his arms over his chest. “What is wrong with you? You almost just committed suicide and you’re brushing it off like it’s a...a fucking Sunday boat ride.”

Cas throws his hands up in the air and lets out a bitter laugh, turning to glare at Dean as well. “Who are you to talk, Dean?” He snaps, “I haven’t seen you in 12 years. I waited, you know? I went out of my fucking mind in those rubber walls.”

“Oh, no,” Dean shakes his head, and his finger. “You don’t get to blame all this shit on me.” He growls, brushing past Cas to head for his car. He unlocks it and rips it open, sliding in. Cas comes and glares, standing in front of it. Dean rolls the window down and snaps, “Get in the car, Cas.”

“No. Why should I?”

“Because we’re holding up traffic.” Dean says, rolling the window back up. Cas rolls his eyes and opens the passenger door, sliding in and crossing his arms. Dean drives to the other end of the bridge and turns around, to head back home. He was going to work today, but plans have obviously changed.

When Dean pulls back into his driveway, he sighs and leans against the steering wheel.

“Wow,” Cas says quietly. “This is your house, huh?”

Dean looks up at the big two story house. Enough for the big family Lisa wanted with room left over. “Yeah, this is it.”

“Must be rich,” he chuckles.

Dean shrugs, and steps out. He’s not one to flaunt his money. It is what it is. People like his cars, fine. People don’t, he has fun making them anyways. He unlocks the door and steps inside, kicking his boots off and immediately heading for the kitchen where he grabs two beers and hands Cas one.

“So,” Dean sighs. “What happened?”

Cas rolls his eyes and sits in one of the dining chairs, “A lot of questions, huh?”

Dean sits across from him. “You almost–”

“Killed myself. I know, Dean.”

“Why?”

“Because, life is like a box of chocolates, and I got the worst one.” Cas shrugs, giving a fake smile.

“What...what happened after, you know?” Dean asks cautiously, gesturing around, as if that would help. Cas raises his eyes and chuckles.

“You mean after almost killing Raphael?”

Dean coughs. “Yeah. That.”

“They put me in a rubber room with my hands strapped to my armpits for 5 weeks until I stopped trying to rip them apart for putting me there. I kept waiting for you, or visitors in general, but I didn’t get any. I realized that my plan had hurt you, too, and I figured you were just recovering. No one told me if you were actually okay, but after a month or so I stopped waiting. I just accepted my fate. They let me out 4 years later after I proved to be at least somewhat sane. I had doctors appointments for 3 more years after that until I was really okay. I had to get a job, had to live somewhere. I was a waiter at some backend diner just for their amusement, and I scraped up enough to get a studio. After they let me go, I stayed. I liked it, you know? In Wichita. It was good. I was good. I don’t know. After that I just got tired of it, got back into drugs,” Cas shrugs. “Life got boring so I started risking my life.”

“Same old Cas, then, huh?”

Cas smiles fondly. “Same old Cas. Same old Dean.” He nods to the flannel. “Plaid, clean house, John’s car. What about you?”

“I woke up in the hospital about a week after the bomb, you know. Mom said Raphael and his mother were in critical condition, but okay. If things had been different, you would have killed their daughter, you know that right?”

Cas shrugs. “I suppose.”

Dean eyes him for a moment before continuing. “I tried to go see you. Mom wouldn’t have it. She had Charlie and Gordon walk me home in case I tried to bolt for the hospital. Had fuckin’ Sam guard my bedroom door.” He laughs at the memories of Sam taking that opportunity of dressing up in his plastic armor and styrofoam sword and sheath. “After a while I just stopped trying to sneak out. I got caught every time. Mom didn’t tell me how you were. I always cared, but I accepted like you did that I probably wasn’t going to see you again. I left, I went to Yale like I always wanted. I majored in engineering.”

Cas hums and smiles, a genuine one. “I’m happy for you. You deserved to go to Yale. You were always smart.” He picks at a place on the table, a mark in the wood. “I was a bad influence on you. Mary did good to keep you away. How is she, anyway?”

Dean shrugs, “Good last time I talked to her. Was about a month ago, I’ve been busy.”

Cas tsks. “A month, Dean? Mary deserves better than that.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “She understands. What about you? When’s the last time you called Naomi, or Chuck?”

Cas shrugs. “Five years.”

Dean scoffs. “And what’s your excuse?”

Cas glances up from the speck his nail keeps picking at. “They’re dead.” He says simply, as if it were nothing. “Sorta hard to speak beyond the grave, not that they’ll want to talk to me anyways.”

Dean gasps. “Chuck and Naomi?”

“Yes,” Cas sighs. “Chuck drank himself to death. Naomi….hell, I don’t know what killed her. Depression and heartbreak, maybe. They left me at the ward after my stunt with Raphael. They called sometimes to check on me, dad more than mom. After a while I think dad finally died and mom called. I happened to call her about a month before I found her in the obituary.”

“Cas…” Dean starts, shaking his head.

“I don’t want your sympathy or pity. I’m fine without them.”

Dean sighs and nods. “Whatever you say, Cas.”

>>

“Just uh, make yourself at home.” Dean shrugs, gesturing around the house. “You can stay with me for a while. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Cas laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. Me almost jumping? Not crazy. I should have. I should have ignored you honestly.”

“Shut up, Cas.” Dean mumbles, heading up the stairs to his bedroom where he grabs two pairs of sweats and two shirts. He changes, and then takes the spares to Cas. “Here.” He tosses them. Cas takes them and doesn’t give them a second glance before standing and beginning to push down his jeans. “Woah– Woah! Cas.” Dean laughs, holding his hands up.

Cas frowns. “What? You can’t say shit. You’ve seen my junk more times than I have.” He kicks off his jeans and tears off his shirt. “What, you’re not into boys anymore, Dean?” Cas teases, grinning at the way Dean looks away from Cas’ boxers.

“That was a one-time thing.”

Cas’ grin widens, and he forgets Dean’s clothes and walks over. “Didn’t seem like a one time thing when you let me fuck you into the mattress every day of the week,”

Dean gulps. “Stop, Cas.”

Cas presses a hand to Dean’s stomach and drags down, rubbing over Dean’s cock through the sweats. “That’s not what you were saying all those years ago. Remember? When you begged for me.”

Dean’s eyes fall shut, but he grabs Cas’ wrist. “Cas. Stop.” He breathes, “I’ve got a girl now. A family. Those days are over.”

Cas’ eyes widen slightly. “Oh,” he steps back slightly. “A kid, huh? Where they at, then?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “School and work. They’ll be home around five. When they get here, please refrain from all the cursing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if youre down here i hope you liked it! leave a kudos and drop a comment :D tysm!!

**Author's Note:**

> leave a kudos and a comment if you havent :D yall are my muse


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